Men's
heads bobbed up as the water flung them irresistibly from side to side.
Mr. Baker grunted encouragingly in our midst, spluttering and blowing
amongst the tangled ropes like an energetic porpoise. Favoured by an
ominous and untrustworthy lull, the work was done without any one being
lost either off the deck or from the yard. For the moment the gale
seemed to take off, and the ship, as if grateful for our efforts,
plucked up heart and made better weather of it.
At eight the men off duty, watching their chance, ran forward over the
flooded deck to get some rest. The other half of the crew remained aft
for their turn of "seeing her through her trouble," as they expressed
it. The two mates urged the master to go below. Mr. Baker grunted in his
ear:--"Ough! surely now... Ough!... confidence in us... nothing more to
do... she must lay it out or go.
"Ough! Ough!" Tall young Mr. Creighton smiled down at him
cheerfully:--"...She's as right as a trivet! Take a spell, sir." He
looked at them Stonily with bloodshot, sleepless eyes. The rims of his
eyelids were scarlet, and he moved his jaws unceasingly with a slow
effort, as though he had been masticating a lump of india-rubber.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100